


it was a saturday when she first met her

by vnknown



Category: Dreamcatcher (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:35:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28955076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vnknown/pseuds/vnknown
Summary: Time and time again, she sees the same woman standing by the docks, holding a fishing rod but never catching fish. Her gaze is always directed towards the horizon, never straying and never faltering.She wonders every time: is she waiting for someone?
Relationships: Kim Bora | SuA/Lee Siyeon
Comments: 12
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i was watching the sunrise by the sea and felt inspired to write this short piece. i hope you like it.

Siyeon gathers her things in her little bag and heads out for the day.

It’s Saturday, which means that she has time to let go of her responsibilities and relax after a long week of squeezing her brain at school, and like clockwork, she’s already set up her small blanket under her favorite tree near the seaside promenade at seven in the morning. 

Around this time, the air is still chilly. Some people are milling around lazily, enjoying the quiet calm of the early morning, while others are dressed in their sportswear, jogging up and down the promenade. Siyeon, for her part, chooses to enjoy the remnants of last night’s coldness until it inevitably disappears as the sun intensifies above them.

She leans back on the tree, closing her eyes to feel the rough surface digging into her clothed back, the sensation somewhat bringing comfort more than the opposite. This is what grounds her after working hard for five days straight. She knows she has papers to tend to after this, but there’s nothing more beautiful than allowing herself the time to  _ breathe _ , to  _ experience _ life than just slave herself away to her goals. 

They can wait for another five hours, she thinks to herself with a quiet laugh, and then she opens her eyes, instinctively looking over at the docks to see. . . her.

Time and time again, she sees the same woman standing by the docks, holding a fishing rod but never catching fish. Her gaze is always directed towards the horizon, never straying and never faltering. 

She wonders every time: is she waiting for someone?

Siyeon has thought about approaching her before, thinking about asking her about her day or checking if everything is okay. It’s not too weird for someone to care about a stranger, right?

But whatever pull she feels towards this woman isn’t strong enough to bring her to her feet and walk the distance between them. There’s always something that stops her from getting up from her blanket, and she’s not sure why.

Maybe it’s the fact that she’s a stranger. Maybe she is waiting for someone and Siyeon can’t find it in herself to be embarrassed if the outcome isn’t what she envisioned it to be. 

So she stays on her blanket and pulls out her phone, ordering her usual breakfast from her favorite café nearby. 

Iced Americano and a slice of Oreo cake. 

Siyeon can’t remember when she started liking iced americano, but she always finds herself compelled to order the same thing every saturday. She doesn’t even drink all of it. She takes a sip, sometimes two or three when she feels like it, and then leaves it on the ground until it’s warm enough to be unappetizing. 

_ You shouldn’t waste food, Siyeon _ . Her sister, Gahyeon, always scolds her for that, but she would never understand how it feels like to just. . .  _ need _ to buy something to make her day  _ feel _ normal. Without the coffee and the cake, her day could never be complete. 

Her order arrives and she greets the delivery man with a smile as usual. He never stays too long, not that Siyeon expects him to, but he’s always quick to leave. Maybe it’s just her. He probably has other places to be. 

Out of habit, Siyeon takes a sip of the cold, bitter coffee, grimacing as the taste lingers in her mouth and at the back of her throat. She clears her throat a few times just to get rid of the bitterness, before switching her attention to the slice of cake still wrapped in a thin sheet of paper. 

She cuts it in two — again, just something that she finds herself doing out of habit — and enjoys the one half while leaving the other in its container. She looks at it while chewing slowly, wondering why she seems to have a habit of leaving half of her food untouched.

Maybe it’s for later?

She doesn’t have enough time to ponder on the question as a shadow casts upon her.

Looking up, Siyeon blinks and freezes in mild surprise. It’s the woman by the dock. 

“Hello?” she asks, hands slowly moving to put her food on the blanket. 

“Hello, Siyeon,” the woman replies with a soft smile on her face, eyes gentle and seemingly. . . sorrowful. “You ready to go home?”

_ How do you know my name? _

Siyeon had wanted to ask the question out loud, but even before the words could form on her tongue, she felt the corners of her eyes sting with tears, her chest heaving as her memories came flooding back into her.

This is Sua.

She is her wife and she. . . she is not a student any longer. They’ve been married for four years, right after graduating college and today is not Saturday.

_ Today is not Saturday. _

A sob breaks from her lips as she clutches on her stomach, the realization of what is  _ real _ hurting her to the point of nearly doubling over if not for Sua crouching down and catching her in her arms.

“I-I’m so sorry,” Siyeon sobs into her wife’s shoulder, drenching her shirt with her desperate tears. “I’m so sorry, my love.”

“It’s okay,” Sua replies, her embrace so firm and tight as one hand rests on the back of Siyeon’s head to caress comfortingly. “It’s okay, Siyeon. It’s not your fault.”

Siyeon pulls away to look at Sua’s face, cupping her cheeks with her hands as she desperately takes in every feature that makes up her wife’s face. She hates the tears that’s trickling down Sua’s cheeks, knowing that she’s the one who’s caused them, and she wipes them with her thumbs, apologetic in every way as she leans in to press her forehead against hers.

“I love you,” she mutters, so full of devotion for her wife and defiance against the very thing that keeps her from being the loving wife that Sua deserves. “I love you so, so much. Please don’t ever forget that.”

“Never,” Sua says, looking into her eyes with such determination. “I know it more than anyone, Siyeon.”

_ More than ever. _


	2. leaves will grow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those eyes are still as beautiful as when she first saw them by the dock, still evoking the same calmness and happiness that they did even after years of being together.
> 
> It’s still Siyeon. It will always be Siyeon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sua's POV this time. 
> 
> I feel like I could have written more and explored more of what happened before they reached this point, but this piece has always been intended to be a short one, so I decided to focus on Sua's point of view during Siyeon's part in the previous chapter. 
> 
> I honestly feel a little proud of myself for even managing to write this chapter, so I hope you guys like this one despite the gigantic room for _more_.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who commented and left a kudos! ♥
> 
> TW: very vague and brief mention of (unintentional) physical violence.

Broken.

Sua couldn’t find a better way to describe how she feels. Up to this day, she still can’t. She can’t believe that this is how her life has turned into, and try as she might to not let her exhaustion and sorrow get the best of her, there are just days when the pain catches up on her and all she wants is to feel a familiar pair of arms around her, to hear a familiar voice whisper into her ear that everything is going to be fine, that after the rain will come a rainbow and everything will be back to normal.

She  _ can _ get that, but there will always be an underlying question:  _ when? _

Looking up from the pot of vegetables, Sua looks over at the ajar door, breathing in and out softly and slowly to calm herself. Now is not the time to let these thoughts occur, not when the woman beyond that door is about to wake up and go on with her day like usual. She must make haste and finish the salad. 

Renewing her focus on her task, she quickly puts on the dressing that her wife likes, mixing it just enough so the vegetables do not go  _ soggy _ instantly. She places the salad in a small container, labeled  _ Saturday _ on top of the lid, and puts it somewhere inside the refrigerator where it can easily be spotted upon opening it.

She has fifteen minutes left to spare, fifteen more minutes to wash all the dishes. 

Maybe she can leave them for later.

Sua hums.  _ No _ , Siyeon will know. She will pick up the scent of used dishes. A soft smile pulls on her lips, nothing but adoration for one of Siyeon’s many quirks. 

She finishes washing the dishes in record time and leaves the house to the sound of shuffling inside their bedroom. She walks and walks and walks to the nearest but stop, not once stopping to look back and hope to see a glimpse of her wife in the morning. Today is  _ supposed _ to be Saturday, and Saturdays mean that Siyeon is always in a hurry to catch the early sunrise by the seawall. 

Siyeon won’t let a container of salad delay her. She won’t eat it, not really, but she needs to  _ see _ it to collect herself and have a calm start in her morning. Not long after opening the refrigerator, Sua knows she will rush into her outdoor clothes and take her bicycle to the seawall.

And that’s where Sua’s going to wait for her.

The bus ride is short and swift like usual and with only a few more minutes to spare, she heads over to the dock and stands near one of the wooden pillars, taking out her portable fishing rod not long after. 

And then… she waits.

It usually takes fifteen minutes of waiting for Siyeon to get to her favorite spot under the tree, and within those fifteen minutes, much as she loathes it, Sua always finds herself reminiscing the very moment when all of this started. 

It all started here, on this very dock, all those years ago when they were freshmen in college. 

—

_ “Where did you get that bruise?” _

_ “From catching fish.” _

_ “Let’s try the truth this time.” _

_ “I got in a fight with some guy on campus.” _

_ “Do you see this fishing rod?” _

_ “Are you threatening me with it for not telling you?” _

_ “No, but do you see it?” _

_ “Yeah?” _

_ “It’s not mine.” _

_. _

_. _

_. _

_ “You’re an interesting one, Sua.” _

—

It is a fond memory that always brings a smile on Sua’s otherwise sorrowful face. It’s the memory that she always remembers when things get too hard, when she gets too tired of doing this every day, of pretending to be a stranger to the woman she’s been in love with for more than a decade now. 

It is the memory that reminds her why she still does this, why she keeps on doing it despite the exhaustion that creeps along every bone in her body. 

Siyeon is the reason why she got through college, the same woman who encouraged her to break away from expectations and pursue the things she wanted instead. She’s a steady presence, a reliable shoulder to lean on, a voice that always lingers inside her head, motivating her and pushing her to be the best version of herself. 

Siyeon is the woman who loved her through her happiness and her sadness, the  _ only _ person to carry Sua through her burdens even as they weigh heavier on Siyeon’s shoulders. 

Siyeon is the woman she loves, and it’s never going to be about a  _ simple _ act of giving back. Never. She is doing this because she loves Siyeon. She swore before worthy witnesses of their love to always cherish through ups and downs, just as Siyeon did with her. 

It doesn’t matter if Siyeon can’t remember her sometimes. 

It doesn’t matter if Siyeon has, on some occasions, unintentionally hurt her physically because she is scared of the person who’s trying to tell her who she is, where she is,  _ when _ she is. It doesn’t matter. It never will.

She’s doing this because she loves the woman who’s enjoying that piece of cake from her favorite café. She’s doing this because she will never give up no matter how hard things could get. 

It doesn’t matter how many times she has to repeat herself; doesn’t matter how many times she has to calmly remind Siyeon that she has no plans for the day, that she isn’t supposed to pick up her niece from her sister’s because she’s already done that two days ago. It doesn’t matter how many times she has to remind her wife that she’s an adult who has a proper job and not a college student.

—

_ “Aren’t we supposed to pick her up today?” _

_ “Who?” _

_ “Today’s Saturday, right? We go to Gahyeon’s and— what?” _

_ Sua frowns. “Baby, it’s Monday.” _

_ — _

_ “I think I forgot my homework.” _

_ “Hm?” _

_ “Did you pass yours?” _

_ “Considering that it’s been eight years since I last attended school…” _

_ “Oh.” _

_ — _

_ “Are we going to Gahyeon’s today?” _

_ “For what?” _

_ “To pick up the kid?” _

_ “We did that yesterday, Siyeon.” _

_ — _

  
  
  


It doesn’t matter.

_ It doesn’t matter _ .

A sob breaks from her lips, a quiet one that she quickly hides behind her fingers. Her heart hurts. It weighs heavy in her chest and it  _ hurts _ . Tears blur the horizon before her and Sua allows herself to  _ feel _ and  _ cry _ for just a few seconds, just to  _ live _ and ground herself; to let out the pain and recollect herself because there are far more important things to do than cry before the sea. 

With a sharp exhale, Sua wipes her tears and straightens up, swallowing the lump that has formed in her throat while putting on a brave front. She folds her fishing rod and holds it in one hand, before turning and walking the distance between her and her wife. 

She smiles at the sight of cake sliced in half, the other left untouched. It seems like even with this illness, Siyeon will never forget to share her food with Sua. Yet another reason why she’ll never give up on her wife.

Her steps falter slightly when Siyeon notices her and looks up. Those eyes are still as beautiful as when she first saw them by the dock, still evoking the same calmness and happiness that they did even after years of being together.

It’s still Siyeon. It will always be Siyeon.

_ Dementia be damned _ .

“Hello?”

“Hello, Siyeon,” she smiles gently, head tilting to the side. “You ready to go home?”

And like many times before, Sua waits and watches as realization dawns upon her wife, barely able to keep herself from tearing up all over again as she hurts for the confusion and pain that overcomes Siyeon every time she realizes that she’s no stranger in her life.

All Sua can really do is hold her,  _ catch her _ , caress her back to offer comfort as she fights back her own tears, but all efforts are for naught when her tears inevitably trickle down her cheeks. She steadies herself, becoming the strong shoulder for Siyeon to rely on as she soaks her shirt with tears. 

She doesn’t care.

She never will.

“I’m so sorry,” Siyeon sobs into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, my love.” 

Siyeon has never done anything wrong, but after hearing those words, Sua feels like everything on Earth is forgiven. Other things simply do not matter anymore. The only thing that matters is Siyeon remembers her once again and they can finally go home. Siyeon is rubbing her tears away, looking at her with so much love and devotion, and Sua knows that this is the only thing that matters now.

_ “I love you so, so much. Please don’t ever forget that.” _

  
  


And Sua will never forget. No matter what illnesses come upon her, whatever tragedy life has set for them, Sua will never forget.

“ _ Never.” _

**Author's Note:**

> might write sua's pov if people are interested. :) 
> 
> p.s. i'm still working on the second part of catching dreams. i'm trying not to fall back into bad habits of posting without finishing chapters so!   
> p.p.s kudos and comments are highly appreciated. ♥


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